Rough Draft: Snow Road Chapter 2

Snow Road Chapter 2

Manny Delgado

“Come on, people—who can tell me what a malignant narcissist is? I know you read the chapter. It’s been a damn week.”

Professor Manuel “Manny” Delgado spreads his hands, scanning the lecture hall as his frustration builds. The room stays still—until a small hand rises from the third row, left side.

“Yes, Shante,” he says, relieved. “Save us.”

She clears her throat. “A malignant narcissist, sir, is considered the most dangerous type of narcissist. Toxic, manipulative, exploitative, sadistic, domineering…” She pauses, searching. “Unremorseful. Their primary goal is control—total domination. Power is like a drug to them, and they’ll use anything to get it: violence, lies, manipulation… whatever it takes.”

She glances around, then continues more steadily. “They lack the capacity for genuine remorse. It’s not something they process the way others do. And they tend to target anything they perceive as weaker—children, animals… anyone vulnerable.”

A brief breath. Then, quieter: “Some even derive pleasure from others’ pain. They blur the line between sociopathy and psychopathy.”

Manny raises his eyebrows, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he leans slightly toward her, waiting.

Shante swallows. “It’s said that, given enough power, they’d destroy entire groups of people without hesitation and on average five generations of their family.”

Manny nods and turns to the whiteboard, writing in bold strokes: Malignant Narcissist – Psycho.

“Very good, Shante. Enlightening.” He sets the marker down and faces the class. “Now—why is this type the worst? Beyond the obvious.”

Silence fills the auditorium.

“We often say narcissists are made, not born,” he continues. “But psychopaths? That’s different. There’s a genetic component. Traits can be passed down, sometimes lying dormant for years.” He lets that settle. “So why, then, might malignant narcissism be worse in some cases?”

The quiet deepens.

Then, from the back—low, resonant, unmistakable: “Sigiloso.”

Manny stiffens. A chill runs through him as he turns toward the shadowed upper rows.

“Ah,” he says, recovering with a polite smile. “Very good, Mr…?”

A tall figure rises and begins descending the steps, hands in his pockets.

“Lyndith. Supervisory Agent Mason Lyndith.”

Manny claps his hands once. “That’s all for today, everyone. Before you submit your papers, add a section on Sigiloso. I want your interpretation.” He gestures lightly. “Thank our guest for the inspiration.”

Students gather their things, casting curious glances at the imposing man approaching the front.

“You didn’t have to end early on my account, Professor,” Lyndith says, a faint smirk on his face.

“What can I do for you, Agent… Lyndith?” Manny asks, already reaching for his briefcase.

“I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Manny busies himself packing up, movements a touch too quick. “About?”

“Psychopaths. Narcissists. Related fields.” Lyndith watches him closely. “We’re working a case in Shipmen. Thought you might’ve heard.”

“I don’t follow the news,” Manny replies, snapping his case shut—too hard. He winces as it catches his finger.

“Oh—careful there.”

“I’m fine,” Manny mutters. “I’m actually late for an appointment.”

“It involves a potential serial killer.”

Manny pauses—just a fraction—then resumes. “I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Lyndith notes the shift: the tension, the sheen of sweat forming at Manny’s temple.

“As a psychology professor, I was told you’d be helpful. The case involves a university—Yenner, over near Landing. Borders Shipmen.”

“I’m not familiar with the area—”

“Professor Delgado,” Lyndith cuts in, voice calm but firm, “your mother lives at 1287 Swai Court in Shipmen, Florida. I checked.”

Manny stiffens.

“I’m not sure why you’re being evasive,” Lyndith continues. “Is this a bad time?”

Manny grabs his case and heads for the exit. “Yes. It is. You can’t just interrupt my class and start asking—”

“A simple follow-up, then. Is there a better time to reach you?”

“You’ll have to call my secretary,” Manny says, not slowing. “I must be going.”

And with that, he’s gone—leaving Lyndith alone in the echoing lecture hall.

Dezi Golden